


Crystal Tears

by Insomniac_with_dreams



Series: Beskar and Kyber [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Confused Din, Darksaber, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din cries, Fluff and Angst, Grogu | Baby Yoda Needs a Hug, Hurt Din Djarin, Hurt Grogu, Hurt/Comfort, Let Din REST, Luke is also a little lost, Luke thinks he's handsome because of it, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Protective Cara Dune, Protective Din Djarin, Protective Luke Skywalker, also he's just straight handsome, and cry, because I said so, hes so lost, like emotional, only din could become king on accident, poor baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28190043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomniac_with_dreams/pseuds/Insomniac_with_dreams
Summary: “This is going to be awkward,” Luke sighs down at the baby in his arms. R2 beeps besides him and Luke nods in agreement. “Nothing to do but go back.”His X-Wing is almost completely dismantled, sparking where wires hang limply. There is no way he’s getting off of this cruiser until it’s repaired. There aren't even any escape pods on board all of the docking bays empty. He hadn’t anticipated this, and now he was going to have to walk back to the bridge with the baby and explain himself to a heartbroken Mandalorian.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Series: Beskar and Kyber [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065137
Comments: 114
Kudos: 1836
Collections: Amazing Fics I Like to Re-Read





	Crystal Tears

**Author's Note:**

> The beautiful little poem you are about to read before this installment was written by SleepingReader in my comments and I needed everyone to read how lovely they are. 
> 
> Thank you for your words.

My child, my dear  
How come you are here  
you went with the Jedi  
I'm not dreaming, am I?

Dear Din, take a break  
For there has been much at stake  
Rest your head, lay down your fears  
And shed your crystal tears

~SleepingReader

~*~*~*~*~

“This is going to be awkward,” Luke sighs down at the baby in his arms. R2 beeps besides him and Luke nods in agreement. “Nothing to do but go back.”

His X-Wing is almost completely dismantled, sparking where wires hang limply. There is no way he’s getting off of this cruiser until it’s repaired. There arent even any escape pods on board all of the docking bays empty. He hadn’t anticipated this, and now he was going to have to walk back to the bridge with the baby and explain himself to a heartbroken Mandalorian.

Said baby also needed a good dose of sleep and food, his little body exhausted. Luke runs a hand over his face, before spinning on his heel and marching back towards the damned elevator. 

The Mandalorian has his helmet back on, slumped against the wall when Luke walks back onto the bridge. The baby whines when he sees him, holding out a little hand. Luke holds up his hand as the two woman raise weapons on him

“I’m not here to hurt any of you, but those droids got to my ship before I noticed,” he feels a deep shame for not noticing, but the baby's cries had been desperate and Luke had been just as desperate to get to him. “I have no way off this cruiser until I can fix it, or you drop me off on some planet.”

The women look at each other before dropping their guns. 

"I’m Cara Dune, Marshal, not that it matters here." she holds out her hand and he takes it, her grip is hard, and her eyes hold a steel to them, a protectiveness over the child in his arms and for the man on the floor behind them.

“I’m Fennec,” the other woman says. She gives Luke a once over before turning away, marching towards the female Madalorians. 

"Is he alright?" Luke says, gesturing towards the slumped man. Cara grimaces, and the baby reaches for his father again. Luke lets him down, no need to keep the two apart when they are so close together. The baby toddles on tired legs to the Mandalorian, crawling with practiced ease onto his chest, curling up.

"I’m not sure. He hasn’t exactly slept much since the child was taken. I think it finally caught up to him."

Luke nods, watching the man breath. He’s propped against the wall just so, his head knocked forward. “Should we take his helmet off?” Luke asks, he had once fallen asleep in a helmet, the results upon waking was a sore neck and a pounding headache. 

"You touch that helmet and I will shoot you,” Cara growls. Luke raises his hands again, she means it. Her hand already on her blaster.  
"I apologize. I just thought perhaps he would be more comfortable," Luke placates. Cara scowls harder, but her hand drifts from her weapon.

"He doesn’t take it off," she says.

"But he did." Luke mutters and Cara sucks in a breath. She seems shaken like the helmet coming off had rocked a foundation she was sure of.

"I think you and the child are the only living things to have seen his face in years.” Cara says, "he was willing to die before taking his helmet off at one time. I don’t know what changed."

The Mandalorian, who loved the child curled on his chest, who sat in an odd place within the force, was far more complicated than Luke would have thought. He reaches towards him with the force, feeling. Emotion roars in the man. Sadness and anger and confusion clashing violently, washing over a sea bed of deep seated loneliness.

"He has seen lots of pain," Luke breaths, "Deep pain, deep loss."

"Well you did just walk away with his kid like a few minutes ago. He cares a lot about him, more than I understand." Cara says. Voices whisper behind them, heated and sharp. Something about a saber and a few curses in Mando’a thrown towards the sleeping man. Luke flinches at the harshness of them. These Mandalorians do not seem to hold the same energy as the beskar clad man. Cara growls, whirling around she stomps towards the Mandalorians and Fennec. 

Luke watches in mild concern as Cara comes to a stop in front of the red headed woman.

"Where are you taking this ship?" she demands. She gets a glare in response.

"I’m taking it where I please!"

Cara scowls, "We can’t keep running around with Moff Gideon. He’s gonna wake up at some point! For all we know he has another plan up his sleeve! We’re on his kriffing ship!"

Luke steps forwards when hands land on blasters, "There is no need to resort to violence at this time. Cara makes a good point, and the child is weak. He is in need of food, and medical attention. I don’t know about any other injuries, but that Mandalorian," he gestures to the man, "is in a bad way. I think it would give us all peace of mind to know where we are going.

He gets three sets of glares at the same time.

"What do you care Jedi? You got your prize, some of us are still fighting for ours. Even if we land this cruiser on a planet, he cannot go anywhere."

Luke narrows his eyes, "Why not?"

The red head sneers, "he took something that should rightfully be mine. Even after I trusted him."

Cara throws her hands in the air, "Dank ferrick! He offered the damn thing to you!"

Tensions rise and Fennec glares at all of them, she’s taken up her weapon again. Luke frowns, "This isn’t the time to argue. You need to figure out where you are going."

The red head's furry is turned on him now, "What do you know of our culture Jedi?" she spits it at him, snarling the word Jedi.

"I do not know a lot. I do not know what power yielding that saber will give you, but fighting amongst one another won’t solve either problem."

"Boba is coming back for me," Fennec mutters, "we can’t leave these coordinates until he is back."

Luke stares at her, "Boba, as in Boba Fett?"

She squints at him, "Yes."

Well. This has been a day, Luke decides. Han was not going to be happy finding out Boba Fett survived the sarlacc pit.

"We could take Mando with us," Fennec continues. She doesn’t look thrilled by the prospect but the distasteful look she sends the redhead tells Luke she would do anything to get away from her.

"Well that’s all good for you," Cara says, she slumps against the control panel where the saber rests, looking as if it were cast there violently. "The imps aren’t idiots. This ship is practically dead to all signals coming in and out."

"That's how we wanted it," the other Mandalorian sneers. "The last thing we want is people contacting this ship."

Cara looks like she’s about to burst a vein, she clenches her fists. "We came here to rescue the kid, and you turned this mission into a retrieval of a stupid sword you won’t even except. Why the hell did Mando even ask for your help? You don’t care about anyone but yourself." She stalks towards the crumpled form of the imperial officer, heaving him onto her shoulder, "Come on Fennec, lets dump this trash in the brig."

Luke watches them leave, feeling like calling them back. He doesn’t want to be left alone with the other two Mandalorians. Cara pauses at the door looking over her shoulder,  
"Don’t move Mando. Waking up in a different place will freak him out."

"I’ll stay here with him," Luke says. He has nowhere else to go anyways. "When he wakes up I’ll explain my uh, predicament to him."

Cara seems pleased by the answer, giving Luke a curt nod before walking away. The other two Mandalorians glare at him, before they too move towards the doors. The red head is limping and is saying something about medical. She looks longingly at the saber as they pass it. Then Luke is alone, with a nervous R2 and a ship load of questions. Luke stands awkwardly, the room is quiet now, too quiet. The dead bodies of the imperial officers and storm troopers make Luke feel cold. He sits in a chair across from the slumped Mandalorian wrapping his cloak around himself he closes his eyes.

He normally doesn’t pry too much into people's emotions with the force. He finds it rude and distasteful even with permission, but the Mandalorian, Mando, as they’ve been calling him, is someone he wants to understand. Grogu had told him lots about his caretaker even in the short time they talked. Childish words of adoration about a man who takes gentle care of him. Most of it had been childish dribble, and at times of desperation when the baby was alone and cold in his cell he would not call out through the force for Luke; but for his father instead. 

Luke can feel the love. It swells warm and bright around Mando. It’s been dampened and Luke shudders in his seat at the sheer amount of loss the man has experienced even in a few days. It’s the most prominent emotion that Luke can read. Loss. So much loss. Ringed in desperation and cracked with helplessness. There is bitterness and self loathing there too. It tugs at Luke, slipping like oil into the cracks of the force he is using. There are things the Mandalorian hates himself for, bitter things that he keeps as close to his heart as his little Grogu. It’s a painful thing to feel, and Luke turns away from it quickly, cowardly. He searches for something more, warmth for Grogu, and a chuckle slips past Luke's lips. Tucked around Mando like a blanket is a heavy blanket of confusion and misunderstanding. Some of those things lead to darkening strings to the core of Mando’s self hatred, but some latch onto brighter feelings held for Grogu.

The Mandalorian, Luke realizes as he opens his eyes, is so completely human. So purely flesh and blood, and grit and sweat that it gives Luke an odd feeling of whiplash.

He gazes upon the man and his child, an odd little duo, and Luke hopes to get Grogu’s story from the man. It had been hard at times to talk to little Grogu, who was so completely a child. 

It took longer for Mando to wake up than Luke had expected, but he waited patiently. Soothing his droid and watching the stars. He could not say he was comfortable, death hung close to him on all sides and the bridge was ripe with a feeling of darkness; finally though the man shifted.

He became aware of the baby on his chest immediately sitting up and cupping him to his chest, with gentle hands. Luke can see their tremble as Mando strokes his ears.

“Grogu,” his voice cracks upon his name, breaking in a wave of emotions. “Grogu.” Mando lifts his helmet just over his mouth, and presses a kiss to Grogu’s tiny forehead. “What are you doing here?” he asks his sleeping baby, letting his helmet slide back in place, “I thought you went with the Jedi.” Luke watches him rock the baby, “I’m not dreaming am I?” he husks and Luke feels something in his chest twist painfully.

“No. You aren’t,” There’s a blaster pointed at him before he can finish his sentence. Mando had risen onto his knees, sheltering the baby against his chest as he stared at Luke. The muzzle of the blaster dips after Mando takes a good look at him.

“Why are you back here?” Mando asks, he hasn’t put the blaster away completely, but his voice is not as hostile as Luke thought it may be. He lets out an awkward laugh rubbing the back of his neck.

“About that. Some of those droids got to my X-Wing. She’s pretty banged up and I have no other way to leave the cruiser. I wasn’t expecting you to be asleep when I returned.” Luke smiles at him, and Mando shifts to peer around the bridge. Luke wishes he could see his face, just so he could see that Mando knows he isn’t going to harm him or his baby.

“Yeah, well. I didn’t exactly plan on falling asleep, I just sat down for a bit,” Mando mumbles. He looks back down at Grogu, assessing him, Luke realizes. He stands, slight tremors wracking his body. “He needs help.” Mando says and Luke stands too, holding a hand out as Mando starts to panic.

“He’s going to be okay. Come, let's go find food.” he starts for the door and Mando hesitates. He looks out of it, even without Luke not being able to see his face. His shoulders are slumped and he looks around like he’s lost. He does follow Luke eventually, staying close and mumbling things to Grogu in Mando’a every once and awhile. Luke can only translate bits and pieces. 

“Where is everyone?” the, did they leave me?, is not said but Luke can feel tremors of uncertainty and fear radiating off of Mando. He shakes his head.

“No. Cara and Fennec went to take care of that imperial officer, and the female Mandalorians went in search of a med bay.”

Mando nods absently. The rest of the walk is silent. At some point Luke finds a map embedded into a wall. The mess hall is towards the back and bottom of the ship. He sends Mando another smile and it does little more than make Mando more tense where he stands. So they walk in quiet again, both of them surveying the damage he caused.

“I have to admit,” Luke starts, a laugh woven into his words, “ I was pretty upset when I had to come back. Embarrassed.” he laughs at himself, and Mando stays quiet. Luke is aware of how weird this is, how _unnatural_ it must feel for Mando, and how weird that it feels so _natural_ for Luke. The force does not just revolve around the child, but his father. 

The mess hall is dark, and when the lights are activated the tables are covered in a thin film of dust. Which is odd. Mando starts to rest Grogu on the table when Luke puts a hand on his arm. Mando jolts hard, flinching away like Luke had burned him.

“I’m sorry,” Luke says, stepping back, “ I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just going to say you can stay here. I’ll go see what I can find. Try to wake him.” Luke hurries away before he can say anymore. He hadn’t expected, whatever that was. Mando had handed his child over with tears in his eyes, and a small smile on his face. Luke knew, Grogu knew, that Mando trusted him, and yet Mando reacted to a simple touch like he expected Luke to draw his light saber and cut him down. For some reason it hurt. Deeply. Luke frowns, it should not hurt. At all. Luke is a stranger to Mando and Mando is a stranger to him, but they are connected through Grogu, and an odd part of Luke that he has never let come to the surface _wants_ Mando.

He clears his thoughts abruptly. He can hear baby chatter and the deep soft undertones of Mando’s voice. He smiles before hurrying his search for food. 

When he gets back to the table, Grogu has his little hand on Mando’s helmet, gurgling sad little sounds. Luke sets down the dry rations and hydration pouches to mix into them that he found. Grogu paws at his dad’s helmet one more time before tuning sad eyes and droopy ears to Luke and the rations. Luke offers him a small smile.

“I think he wants to see your face again,” Luke says, and Mando stiffens. Luke looks up at him, _I want to see your face again._ He bites his lip against the unwarranted thought. 

“I don’t know if that would be the best idea,” Mando’s words are quiet, unsteady, unconvincing. He looks down, his visor glinting from the lights. 

“How are you going to eat?” Luke asks. He’s tearing open the rations, mixing water into the packets and handing them across the table to Mando. Grogu watches them eagerly, and Mando seems grateful for the distraction. Luke sits back and watches Mando spoon food into Grogu’s mouth. His little body too weak to lift the spoon. It’s a tender and intimate sight. Luke looks away.

It’s to a near silent choked noise that Luke turns back to the pair. The bag of ration is halfway finished and Grogu leans heavily against Mando's breastplate. Mando’s shoulders shake, barely. So quietly do his tears fall, and so little do his shoulders shake under the weight of his tears that Luke wonders if he were just imagining it. But no. There, sliding from under the helmet are silver tears, that drop like liquid crystals to the table below. 

“Are you okay?” Luke asks, softly, carefully, ready for the trap he has just sprung. The Mandalorian says nothing, but now his shoulders shake harder and his sobs grow more audible. Luke lets him cry. Lets his tears fall for the loss he has felt, for the relief and confusion. Luke sits there, and watches the man fall apart. Something clicks into place then, a quiet little promise that Luke will do anything it takes to protect not only this force sensitive child, but also the man who loves him.

**Author's Note:**

> I have fallen into dinluke hell. I'm debating on whether this is a good thing or not. 
> 
> Also sorry if anyone disliked my portrayal of Bo-Katan, or the tension between her and Cara, but wow I really dislike her.


End file.
